


Just Gotta Speak Honestly

by lakehymn



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Epistolary, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8100844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakehymn/pseuds/lakehymn
Summary: Pernell Karl Subban invited you to his event Come Watch Carey Price Kick These Dudes’ Asses at Beer Pong.
*“Subby, put your phone down and take your turn!” Carey yells good-naturedly.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [accidentallymelted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallymelted/gifts).



> First of all, thanks so much for the fun prompts! I hope you have at least as much fun reading this as I did writing it. I actually really loved all your prompts, so I kind of had a hard time choosing just one, but at the end of the day, I'm also super weak for PK/Carey. I went with the college AU where they're roommates because I figured I should Write What I Know, but honestly, in this fic, Carey and PK go to almost as many parties in a single semester as I went to in my entire four years of college, haha. Anyway, I really hope you like it!

_**From: Subbanator**_  
_8:59 AM_  
_Hey did u eat the last bagel this morning???_

**_From: Subbanator  
_** _8:59 AM  
_ _Not cool man!!_

*

Carey feels a sharp elbow jab into his side, and he jerks his head up quickly, worried that the professor is calling him out for checking his phone during class. He really doesn’t need to get chewed out—again—just because he’s so easily distracted by PK.

Luckily, though, the professor doesn’t seem to have paused in her lecture, so Carey turns his attention to Chucky, who always sits at the desk next to him, presumably so he’s close enough to jab Carey with his elbow. At Carey’s questioning look, Chucky raises his eyebrows and nods at the phone in Carey’s lap.

Carey shifts his arm, trying to subtly hide the screen from Chucky’s view. It’s not so much that he’s embarrassed by the name PK had saved his own number under, but more that Carey hasn’t bothered to change it in the two and a half years he’s known PK.

In response to Chucky’s unspoken question, Carey shrugs and rolls his eyes halfheartedly.

*

 _ **To: Subbanator**_  
_9:05 PM  
_ _I get out of class in 10 min. If you haven’t starved to death by then we can meet up at our coffee place?_

*

Chucky jabs Carey’s side again, but Carey only bothers to look up when a torn piece of paper falls into his line of sight.

*

_Tell PK I say hi xoxo_

*

 _ **To: Subbanator**_  
_9:07 AM  
_ _Btw Chucky sends his love_

*

As soon as class ends, Carey gives Chucky a mock salute and says his goodbyes. PK had texted back the thumbs-up emoji (followed by the kissy face emoji, which had taken Carey a second to realize was PK’s response to Chucky), so Carey heads over to the café he and PK always go to.

PK has settled in at a small table near the back by the time Carey arrives and gets his coffee. Carey is already walking towards the table when PK spots him and waves him over.

“Pricey!” he greets excitedly, as though he and Carey don’t share an apartment and see each other every day.

Carey grins anyway.

“What’s up?” he asks, taking the seat across from PK.

“Party this weekend at Sidney’s,” PK says. “You in?”

Carey raises an eyebrow. “Sid’s never struck me as the throwing-a-party type.”

“Well, I think it’s the guys he’s living with this year that are technically throwing it,” PK explains, “but he’s the one who invited me.”

“And it’s cool if you invite other people?” Carey asks, just to makes sure.

“Oh, please.” PK waves a hand dismissively. “Sid knows I’ll always bring you with me.”

“Then yeah, okay,” Carey says. “I’m in.”

PK has to cut their breakfast short so he can make it to class on time, and he and Carey walk back to campus together. As they approach the fine arts building, Carey feels PK’s hand graze against the back of his neck, and PK hesitates like he’s going to say something. Then the moment passes.

PK says, “See you later, Pricey.”

“Yeah,” Carey responds, after a beat, “see you.”

PK heads off to his art class, and Carey walks across the quad to wait for his polisci class to start.

*

 _ **P.K. Subban** @PKSubban1 – 2m_  
_@CP0031 wow that’s harsh #notblessed_

 _ **P.K. Subban** @PKSubban1 – 2m_  
_@BGALLY17 sorry man it was roommate bonding_

 _ **Carey Price** @CP0031 – 6m_  
_@PKSubban1 I can’t believe you tweeted a picture of your latte. That’s what insta is for, dude._

 _ **Brendan Gallagher** @BGALLY17 – 7m_  
_@PKSubban1 @CP0031 wtf why wasn’t I invited???? #notblessed_

 _ **P.K. Subban** @PKSubban1 – 9m_  
_Brunch with @CP0031 today! Good coffee is even better with friends. #blessed  
_ _[image attached]_

*

Carey drums his fingers across the keyboard, waiting for either inspiration to strike or for his analysis paper to start writing itself. He manages to get a few sentences down before eventually deciding to give the day up as a lost cause. Besides, it’s a Saturday, and it’s late enough in the afternoon that the library has almost completely emptied out.

Carey closes his laptop with a certain sense of finality. He’s spent more time at the library over the past week than he has at his own apartment, and he’s ready for a break.

*

 _ **From: Subbanator**_  
_4:13 PM  
_ _Can u pick up a case of beer?? I just realized we’re out and we need something to bring to the party_

 ** _To: Subbanator  
_** _4:13 PM  
_ _yeah but why can’t you do it?_

 ** _From: Subbanator  
_** _4:14 PM  
_ _duh I’m busy trying to figure out what to wear_

*

When Carey gets back to the apartment from his beer run, PK is standing in the middle of the living room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a button-down shirt that hasn’t been buttoned. He’s too busy examining a pair of shoes to notice Carey’s arrival.

“Hey, Subby,” Carey greets, as soon as his gaze is firmly above PK’s collarbones.

“Hey!” PK says. “Got the beer?”

“Yup.” Carey holds up the case of Molson Canadian.

PK groans. “You know I hate that shit.”

“That’s why it’s for the party,” Carey tells him, purposefully making a show out of rolling his eyes, though he can’t help the upward tic of his lips that comes with it. He holds up the case of PK’s preferred brand in his other hand and adds, “This is what we’re keeping for ourselves.”

“Dude, you’re the best!” PK exclaims, grinning brightly. “Thanks!”

“Not a problem,” Carey says.

He heads to his bedroom quickly, both so he can start getting ready for the party and so he can take a moment for himself; having the full force of PK’s appreciation directed at him can be overwhelming. 

Carey shucks off the sweatpants he’d had on for studying and pulls on a pair of light wash jeans instead.

When he emerges from the bedroom, PK is still standing in the living room, but now with his shirt buttoned and his sleeves rolled up, and he’s wearing the tightest pair of jeans he owns—or at least, Carey desperately hopes he doesn’t own a pair any tighter than those. He wouldn’t survive it.

PK looks good. Granted, PK always looks good, even when he rolls out of bed five minutes before class and runs out the door wearing whatever he can find on the floor. But when PK goes to the trouble of making an effort, he looks really, really good.

The problem—and it’s a problem for Carey, even if it isn’t a problem for anyone else—is that PK almost always makes an effort, instances of waking up five minutes before class notwithstanding, since his desire to always be on time is one of the few things that supersedes his desire to always dress his best.

“Ready to go?” PK asks.

Carey shrugs and says, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

It takes 20 minutes to get to Sid’s new place, but Carey doesn’t mind the walk. The breeze is refreshing when it blows against his skin, which feels slightly warm from the pre-gaming he and PK had done before they left. Walking side-by-side with PK feels nice, too, and so does the way their fingers occasionally brush.

*

“Yo, Pricey, get over here!” PK calls, an indeterminable period of time later. “I need your help!”

Carey sets his drink down carefully and stands; he feels steady, but he’s still sober enough to recognize that just because he feels steady doesn’t mean he actually is. Regardless, no one seems to be giving him more than a passing glance, so he must be doing okay.

He wanders over to the dining room, where PK is bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He waves Carey over, and in his enthusiasm, he almost knocks over one of the many Solo cups on the table next to him.

“What’s up?” Carey asks, ignoring PK’s near-blunder.

“I need your skills,” PK tells him solemnly. He nods towards Bergeron and Marchand, who are standing at the other side of the table. “We have to beat these guys.”

Two years ago, Patrice Bergeron and Brad Marchand lived down the hall from Carey and PK. Carey doesn’t actually remember how their rivalry started, but at the moment, he feels inexplicably passionate about it. He suspects he can attribute at least part of that feeling to his level of intoxication, and the other part to PK’s unwavering faith in his skillset.

Carey looks Marchand in the eye and smirks.

*

_**Pernell Karl Subban** invited you to his event **Come Watch Carey Price Kick These Dudes’ Asses at Beer Pong**._

*

_**Pernell Karl Subban** tagged you in a post in **Come Watch Carey Price Kick These Dudes’ Asses at Beer Pong**._

*

“Subby, put your phone down and take your turn!” Carey yells good-naturedly.

“Yes, Mom,” PK quips, but he does put his phone down. “I just had to send this Facebook invite really quick.”

Carey raises his eyebrows but doesn’t ask, and PK just grins as he takes the shot.

Under normal circumstances, PK has incredible aim; now, he’s on the wrong side of drunk and can’t seem to land any of his shots. But if Carey has one true talent, it’s maintaining steadiness and precision even in the face of insurmountable odds and extreme alcohol consumption. They manage to win.

Bergeron and Marchand shrug and walk away, seemingly unbothered, but PK cheers like he and Carey actually accomplished something worth celebrating.

“We fuckin’ did it!” PK exclaims, grinning infectiously.

Carey can’t help getting swept up in PK’s excitement.

“Yeah!”

They hug, and PK eagerly jostles Carey’s shoulders. Carey throws his head back and laughs, and when he catches PK’s eye again, he notices that PK’s bright grin has dimmed to a soft smile. The world suddenly feels hazy and slow, like the alcohol has hit Carey all at once and knocked him off his axis. When PK leans in, so close that their noses almost brush, Carey stumbles backwards.

“I’ll be right back,” Carey says abruptly.

He goes to the kitchen to grab a glass of cold water, which he gulps down quickly. It’s probably just the placebo effect, but he can feel himself sobering up already. He refills the glass to bring to PK.

When he returns to the other room, PK and Sidney are sharing an armchair, albeit not quite successfully. Sid is flushed and giggly, and he’s half-sitting in PK’s lap. He’s probably had about as much to drink as PK and Carey combined.

“What a good-looking face,” PK is saying, patting Sid’s cheek fondly.

“No, no,” Sid insists, trying to bat PK’s hand away.

PK laughs, bright and open and affectionate, and instead of moving his hand away, he pinches one of Sid’s bright-red cheeks.

He notices Carey, then, and asks, “Isn’t this a good-looking face, Pricey?”

“Ridiculous,” Sid says under his breath, before dissolving into giggles; PK proves Sid’s point by pressing a loud, smacking kiss to his nose.

While they’re distracted, Carey backs out of the room. He puts down the glass of water he’d gotten for PK and leans heavily onto the countertop.

A few minutes later, Carey makes his way back to the next room. Sidney has disappeared, but PK is still there, tapping his fingers impatiently and looking around like he’s waiting for something. Carey takes advantage of the lull in PK’s social agenda.

“Hey, PK,” Carey says, “I’m ready to head out. You coming?”

PK glances up and grins at Carey.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go, too.”

Carey breathes out a sigh of relief.

*

When Carey wakes up and checks his phone the next morning, a truly absurd number of Facebook notifications are there to greet him. Every single one is in relation to a bizarre event PK had created and invited his entire friends list to the night before.

*

_RECENT ACTIVITY_

_**Pernell Karl Subban**_  
_November 6 at 1:29am  
_ _Oh man Carey Price totally kicked these dudes’ asses at beer pong!!! Go team!!!!_

_View more comments_

_**Alex Galchenyuk** Did you help AT ALL or did Pricey do all the work?_

_**Sidney Crosby** Oh, that explains why you were in such a good mood._

*

The next couple weeks pass by in a flurry of homework assignments and extended visits to the campus library. By the end of the month, Carey has written 17 more pages of his paper, and as much as he loves his topic, he’s getting a little tired of it. He almost never wants to write about the government’s treatment of aboriginal people ever again. Almost.

Carey is sprawled out across the couch, legs hanging over the armrest, and he’s spent the last hour switching back-and-forth between the Word document for his paper and a game of solitaire. He’s briefly considering quitting school altogether when PK, who’s always had a sixth sense about these kinds of things, chooses that moment to jump in.

“Well, I’m done for the night,” he says, stepping away from his desk and the art project he’s working on—some kind of collage, Carey thinks.

Carey raises an eyebrow.

“Are you actually done or did you just decide to be done?” he asks. “There’s a subtle but important difference.”

PK waves off Carey’s concern, saying, “It’s for my late afternoon class, so I don’t have to worry about it until then.” He pauses. “We should watch a movie.”

Carey looks back at his laptop screen a little desperately. As much as he wishes otherwise, this paper really isn’t about to write itself.

“Let me think about it,” he tells PK.

“Come on, man, you need a break,” PK wheedles—as if he even needs to try that hard with Carey. “At this rate you’re going to burn yourself out before you even graduate.”

“Yeah, alright,” Carey says, feeling lighter already, “let’s do it.”

He moves his laptop out of the way, and PK grins and climbs onto the couch, wasting no time in making himself comfortable.

About an hour into _White House Down_ , PK is leaning as close to the TV as he can manage, and he squeezes Carey’s hand tightly, genuinely worried for the safety of the main character’s young daughter. Carey pats PK’s hand awkwardly, trying to be reassuring, but PK just gives him a curious sidelong glance. Carey ignores it.

By the time the credits roll, Carey feels very much like he’s on a date, in spite of the constant reminders he’s given himself to the contrary. PK leans heavily into Carey’s side, blinking tiredly at the TV screen, and Carey doesn’t have it in him to move away just yet.

There’s something about PK that inspires instant friendship with everyone he meets. Casual displays of affection and bright smiles are as natural to him as breathing, and Carey has seen his kindness directed at too many people to even count. If hanging out with PK sometimes feels like it’s something more, then that’s just because that’s what being friends with PK is like.

*

“We should throw a party,” PK says. “But not, like, a house party like that party animal Sidney had. Maybe more like a get-together… Yeah, we should have a get-together!”

Carey blinks. “Why?”

“Why not?” PK shoots back, and that's how Carey gets roped into helping PK plan a get-together.

He sprawls across the carpet as PK paces around the room. PK is brainstorming, throwing out every idea that comes to mind, no matter how excessive, and just generally doing all the party planning. Carey is dutifully writing everything down for organizational purposes.

“Who should we invite?” Carey asks, tapping his pen against the notepad.

“The Gallys, definitely. Sid, even though, knowing him, he might not show up. Marie-Philip will probably want to go, though,” PK lists, counting the number of potential guests on his fingers. “Oh, and how about Josi? His roommate seems cool, too.”

Carey nods, jotting down notes even as PK moves on to discussing the decorations.

“Do we really need decorations for a casual get-together?” Carey says.

“We do if the casual get-together is close to Christmas, which this one is,” PK explains. “Our apartment needs to be a winter wonderland.”

“It’s November,” Carey feels the need to point out, but he doesn’t press the issue.

Coming from anyone else, the words “winter wonderland” would sound ridiculous, but somehow, PK manages to make the idea sound promising and exciting. Carey writes it down and underlines it.

*

_**Pernell Karl Subban** invited you to his event **PK and Carey’s Winter Wonderland Extravaganza**._

*

It isn’t until the get-together is in full swing that Carey figures out what PK’s true motives had been for having it.

Earlier in the evening, someone had tried starting a round of Cards Against Humanity, but that was quickly abandoned in favor of a more scandalous game of Never Have I Ever. Everybody is sitting in a circle on the carpet, and Carey realizes that his and PK’s casual get-together has devolved into what essentially amounts to a high school slumber party.

Someone knocks on the door just as interest in the game is starting to fade—a result of everyone realizing that Sidney really is as boring as they all think he is and of everyone running out of different sex positions and drugs to name.

At the sound of the knock, PK quickly hops up to get the door.

“That must be Josi and Weebs,” he says. “Roman told me they were going to be a little late.”

Carey’s back is facing the door, but he glances over his shoulder just in time to see PK give Shea Weber an enthusiastic bro hug. Shea looks predictably awkward about the whole thing, but if PK notices that, he just steamrolls right over it.

Shea and Roman join the game of Mafia that’s beginning to develop, and Carey forgets about PK’s odd behavior, at least until a little while later.

When Carey goes to the kitchen to get more drinks, PK takes the opportunity to pull him aside and question him.

“So,” PK begins, feigning nonchalance as he leans against the kitchen counter, “what do you think of Shea?”

Carey furrows his eyebrows.

“Shea’s a good guy, I guess,” he answers, not bothering to keep the questioning tone out of his voice.

Carey has known Shea since last year, when they were in a couple of the same classes, and as far as Carey knows, he really is a good guy. That said, PK is being weird about it.

“Good, because I gave him your number, and he’s meeting you for dinner tomorrow,” PK says, quickly enough that it takes Carey a second to parse it.

“What?” he asks, still confused. “Why?”

“I thought, you know,” PK replies, “that you guys would get along. You’re single, he’s single—it’s perfect!”

Carey stares at him for a second, and that’s when everything about the night and about PK's motives click into place. Carey gets distracted by something else, though.

“That’s your criteria? That we’re both single?”

“Of course not!” PK exclaims, and he seems genuinely affronted by that, at least, if nothing else. “I really think you guys have a lot in common. You’d be a cute couple.”

Carey continues staring at him.

“I don’t think,” Carey begins, before realizing that he has no idea how he wants to end that sentence. He sighs. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see how it goes.”

PK smiles at him encouragingly.

*

When Carey meets Shea at a nearby restaurant, conversation between them falters, as stilted and awkward as Carey feared it would be, with neither of them really knowing what to say. PK may have been right about the two of them having a lot in common, but that isn’t always a good thing.

“What professors do you have next semester?” Carey says, for want of anything else to talk about.

“Therrien for my morning class,” Shea replies. Carey can’t help his automatic wince, and Shea asks, “That bad, huh?” 

Carey shrugs. “He plays favorites, so just get on his good side.”

“Is that what you did?”

“No, but I got good enough grades that he didn’t bother giving me a hard time.” Shea nods but doesn’t say anything else, so Carey tries a new topic. “You were an RA last year, right?”

“Yup.”

“How was that?”

“A lot of work,” Shea tells him. “I’ve always liked helping younger students, though.”

“PK is the same way,” Carey says. “He signed up to be an RA last year, but he didn’t make the cut for some reason, which is total bullshit. This way we got to keep being roommates, though, so I can’t really complain too much.”

There’s another lull in the conversation, and then Shea says, too casually, “You know, speaking of PK, I was really surprised when he first talked to me about this.” At Carey’s questioning look, Shea waves his hand back-and-forth between the two of them. “Setting us up, I mean.”

When Shea doesn’t seem like he’s going to continue, Carey prompts him with, “Why were you surprised?”

Carey has to admit that this weird date was definitely poorly thought out, but it’s not as if it’s the first time PK has come up with a poorly thought out idea, so it’s not exactly worthy of surprise.

“The way he talks about you,” Shea says. He pauses, and then shakes his head, gathering his thoughts, before continuing, “I wouldn’t have thought he’d want you to date someone else. He really likes you.”

“We’re friends,” Carey responds, both for Shea’s benefit and his own; regardless, even the swooping sensation in his stomach isn’t listening to him right now.

“No, I mean, he really, really likes you,” Shea says, staring at Carey meaningfully. “Like, a lot.”

“Then why would he be setting me up with you?”

“I'm not sure, but my guess is that it’s because he’s a nice guy who wants to put your feelings before his own,” Shea answers, and Carey has some trouble disputing that one. At Carey’s continued silence, Shea adds, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Carey agrees warily.

“Why did you agree to go on this date? I know you’re not into it.”

He doesn’t want to hurt Shea’s feelings or whatever, but he has to be honest here.

“Because PK asked me to,” Carey admits.

Shea doesn’t look like his feelings have been hurt, though. If anything, he looks a little smug.

“Thought so,” he says. “You know, you should really talk to PK.”

And that’s the end of the date.

*

Carey doesn’t immediately go back to the apartment. He has too much on his mind, and he needs another opinion. Maybe two.

*

 _ **To: Chucky**_  
_7:42 PM  
_ _Do you think it might be possible that PK wants to date me?_

 _ **To: Gally**_  
_7:42 PM  
_ _Do you think it might be possible that PK wants to date me?_

 _ **From: Chucky**_  
_7:43 PM  
_ _It MIGHT be possible. MAYBE._

 _ **From: Gally**_  
_7:44 PM  
_ _ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha_

*

After reading the two quick yet extraordinarily unhelpful responses from his so-called friends, Carey has no choice but to go straight to the source. As soon as Carey walks into the apartment, PK grins up at him from where he’s lounging on the couch.

“How was it?” PK asks.

Carey shrugs. “It was fine.” He hesitates. “Why did you set us up, though? I mean, honestly, why?”

“Look, it’s really not that complicated,” PK says. He stands and makes his way across the room, allowing the two of them to have this conversation face-to-face. “I just know you haven’t dated in a while, and I thought you might want to.”

Carey stares at PK, taking stock of his soft, genuine smile, and then Carey makes an impulsive decision.

“I don’t think it’s going to work out between me and Shea,” he says frankly.

“Really?” PK responds. “Why not?”

Carey shrugs, nonchalant. “I’m just not sure we clicked that way.”

“That’s too bad,” PK says, sounding genuinely disappointed.

Carey shrugs again. “I guess.”

“I can always try asking—” PK starts, but Carey cuts him off.

“What about you?” he asks, before clarifying, “Do you want to date me?”

He’s prepared for any number of responses, including PK laughing in his face, as well as PK staring at him blankly in pure confusion, both of which would end with PK asking Carey where the hell he possibly could have gotten that idea.

PK groans, but he sounds resigned when he says, “I thought we were in agreement that we weren’t going to talk about my huge crush on you.”

Carey wasn’t prepared for that.

“What the fuck,” he says.

“Come on, Pricey,” PK pleads. “Our agreement’s been working so well.”

“What the fuck,” Carey repeats. “I never agreed to anything.”

“Well, it was an unspoken agreement,” PK admits.

“Why would you think we had any sort of unspoken agreement,” Carey says; he can’t seem to put the correct intonation into his voice to make the question actually sound like a question.

“I never hid how much I like you, man,” PK responds, defensive. “I figured since you never said anything about it, you just wanted to keep things the way they were, and I respected that.”

“You’re like that with all your friends, though,” Carey points out, getting defensive himself now. “How was I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know!” PK says. “Everybody else did!”

Carey opens his mouth to continue arguing his point, but then he suddenly realizes, “This is really stupid.” He strides forwards, bridging the remaining distance between himself and PK, and grasps PK’s hands in his own. “Not to be all middle school about this, but… PK, will you go out with me?”

PK doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but a grin spreads over his face, and then the grin turns into laughter.

As soon as he manages to catch his breath, PK gives Carey his answer.

“Duh.”

At that romantic proclamation, Carey leans forward, kissing PK squarely on the mouth, and PK parts his soft lips against Carey’s tongue. PK breaks the kiss a few moments later, stepping backwards and reaching for his phone.

“Hang on a sec,” he says. “I just need to put something on Facebook.”

“I’m breaking up with you,” Carey says, remarkably straight-faced.

PK laughs.

*

_**Pernell Karl Subban** invited you to his event **Two and Half Years of Seduction Later, and I Finally Managed to Get Carey Price to Date Me**._

*

 _ **Carey Price**_  
_November 28 at 9:46am  
_ _Pernell Karl Subban You know you don’t have to keep making events, right? You can just write a status like a normal person. xoxo_

_**Pernell Karl Subban** I have to make sure everyone sees it though. xoxo_

**_Brendan Gallagher_** _Ew, I should have known you guys would be one of those sickeningly sweet couples. I can’t believe I was rooting for you two._

_**Alex Galchenyuk** Don’t you guys live together? Are you posting these from the same room?_

_**Carey Price** Yes._


End file.
